Rusty Staub arrived in the organization as a teenager in 1963, debuting for the Houston Colt .45s before the franchise even transitioned into the Astrodome. Known for his shock of red hair and a sophisticated left-handed swing, he quickly evolved from a young prospect into the team’s first genuine offensive threat.

Seemingly improving every season, Staub had a coming-out party in 1967, where he led the National League with 44 doubles and recorded a career-high .333 batting average. He showed the organization he was a foundational superstar by earning the first of his back-to-back All-Star selections and finishing the year with 182 hits. Despite the cavernous dimensions of the dome, he maintained a high-frequency of extra-base hits, proving that his line-drive approach was a tactical success against any pitching staff.

The final stretch of his Houston tenure was defined by unwavering offensive volume. Between 1966 and 1968, Staub recorded at least 150 hits each season, providing the steady production required for a developing expansion club. While his defensive range in the outfield prevented him from reaching a higher tier of overall value, his bat remained a constant.

Before the 1969 season, Staub was traded to the Montreal Expos. The move, a swap for Donn Clendenon and Jesús Alou, was driven by a contract dispute with Houston management and a tactical desire to shake up the roster.  With the Astros, Staub compiled 792 hits, 115 doubles, and two All-Star selections.

If the main criteria for the Hall are perseverance and effort, then Rusty Staub should have been a first-ballot Hall of Famer.  His hard work resulted in over 2,700 hits in a Major League career that many people who saw him early on would never have pegged him for.

Nobody could ever accuse Staub of not giving everything he had, regardless of the endeavor.  Those efforts included cooking, history, and, of course, baseball.  They called him eccentric for these things, but his meticulous nature turned him into a pure hitter and gained him respect throughout the league.  He made six All-Star Games but did so without showing much power (though he hit 25 homers twice) and without any real speed.  What he did do was hit for average consistently and walk frequently, which enabled him, even late in his career, to be a solid pinch-hitter.

Staub may have been freakishly consistent, but he was never dominant and was never a serious contender for any postseason award.  Six All-Star appearances were impressive, but rarely has the Baseball Hall of Fame rewarded longevity without at least a flash of immortality.  If they did, Staub would be a good place to start.